Lucky Clover
by Cherri Shadows
Summary: One of Thorin Oakenshield's closest friends, Clover, joins her fellow dwarves on their quest to reclaim Erebor.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit etc.**

The sound of swords clanging together echoed throughout the halls of Erebor. Two dwarves made their way through the mountain, each blocking the harsh blows of the other. Eventually, the larger dwarf, Thorin, knocked the other's sword to the ground. The smaller dwarf quickly looked around and stepped behind a stone statue.

'Very heroic, Clover,' said Thorin, approaching the statue.

Clover said nothing but knelt down to the ground, out of Thorin's sight. Thorin stepped around the statue with one foot – this was Clover's chance. Staying close to the statue, she swivelled around in the opposite direction, picked up her fallen sword and rested it gently against Thorin's back whilst standing up. Thorin sighed and sheathed his sword.

'You win,' he grumbled.

Clover laughed as they made their way to armoury.

'You need to learn to adapt to your surroundings, Thorin,' she said, 'you are not always going to have your sword with you.'

'Well, your performance was not completely faultless either,' he replied, grumpily.

'What did I do wrong?' snapped Clover, offended.

Thorin whirled round, his sword in his hand, and against Clover's neck.

'_You_ are easily distracted. You let your guard down,' he said with a smug grin.

Clover narrowed her eyes and moved her head away from the sword. Before Thorin could blink, she kicked his feet from under him. He fell onto his back and Clover knelt next to him, her sword aimed at his neck, her long black hair falling over her shoulder.

'Well, _you_ are too slow.'

Thorin raised an eyebrow and flipped her over. Clover dropped her sword.

'_You_,' Thorin paused, 'are too easy to lift up.'

He leaned forward slowly, staring into her brown eyes. Their faces were less than an inch away from each other. As the gap between them was about to disappear, a sound like a hurricane whistled through the air. Thorin looked up, his face serious. He stood, helping Clover to her feet. They ran through the halls and to the battlements. The wind was blowing harshly; flags were flying off their poles. Thorin examined the scene for less than a second.

'Balin, sound the alarm.'

Clover ducked, pulling Balin out of the way as a flag and its pole hurtled down towards them.

'Call out the guard. Do it now!' shouted Thorin, rushing back inside.

'What is it?' Balin called after him.

'Dragon,' he said, before turning and shouting it through the halls.

As he shouted, fire rained down towards the battlements. Thorin rushed back to Balin and Clover, dragging them back inside and out of harm's way. Dale, the city in the shadow of the mountain, was torn apart by the flames and wind. Screams came from all directions as soldiers tried to attack the enormous creature.

The armoury of Erebor was soon crowded with dwarves ready to fight. Clover passed her sword to a soldier as she readied the axe that had been attached to her side. She glanced at Thorin who gave her a hopeful nod as the dwarves charged towards the doors of the mountain. They all stood still, waiting for the dragon to burst through the doors. It did not take long. The doors fell to pieces as fire shot through the entrance. Dwarves were thrown violently against the walls. Clover went flying onto her side and Thorin had fallen right next to her. The dragon charged into the mountain.

'The King!' exclaimed, Clover.

'I will find him,' said Thorin, 'you need to get out of here.'

Clover shook her head, 'I'm coming with you!'

'No! Get out. That is an order.'

Thorin was about to stand but looked back at Clover. Quickly, he kissed her, holding her face in his hands. As their lips drew away from each other, he looked into her eyes.

'Be safe,' he said quietly.

Thorin stood and made his way to throne room. Clover pushed herself to her feet and headed towards the broken doors. She lifted up a fallen soldier on her way, pulling him out of the mountain with her.

* * *

><p>The dwarves of Erebor soon slowed down to a weary walk once they were far enough away from their home. The injured soldier was taken from Clover and helped by his family, leaving Clover to find Thorin. She searched through the crowds for his blue clothing amongst the greys and browns and eventually spotted him with his father and grandfather. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he hugged her tightly.<p>

'Are you alright?' she asked, then looked at Thorin's family, 'is everyone alright?'

Thrór began to weep loudly into his son's shoulder.

'What happened?' Clover asked Thorin.

Thorin sighed, 'He lost the Arkenstone.'

Clover exhaled harshly, trying not to let out a whimper as she did so, 'So, what do we do now? Where do we go?'

'I do not know,' replied Thorin.


	2. Chapter 1 (Part 1)

**This is split into two parts and part two will be up soon.**

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party (Part 1)

'We are late,' said Clover, walking ahead.

It had been dark for at least an hour and the two dwarves were completely lost for the second time that day. Every house looked the same: round doors buried in small grassy hills.

'What was the name?' asked Thorin whilst examining a red door.

'Baggins, I think,' Clover looked at another door, 'none of these have the mark, Thorin, they'd have started without us. What else did Gandalf say?'

'Under the hill,'

'They're all under hills!'

They wandered through the maze of paths through Hobbiton, checking every door and every sign but finding nothing. The village was quiet; most of its residents must have been asleep so there was no one to ask for directions, though Thorin wasn't one to ask for help. A faint clinking soon began to sail through the air.

'Where is it coming from?' asked Clover, stepping onto a higher bit of ground.

Thorin stood still and closed his eyes before pointing along the path, 'That way.'

At the thought of food and warmth, the two dwarves hurried along, not bothering to check anymore houses. The sound grew louder and a choir of deep voices joined in. They followed the noise to a large hill with a green door. Looking closely, Thorin noticed the mark on the door. Clover sent him a nervous smile as the singing stopped and knocked loudly on the door. The village was silent again, the only sound being the creaking of the door as it was opened by the wizard.

'Gandalf,' said Thorin, with a nod, 'I thought you said this place would be easy to find. We lost our way.'

'Twice,' said Clover, following Thorin into the house.

'We wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.'

The little hobbit stepped forward in a panic, 'Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!'

Gandalf quickly shut the door to hide the damage, 'There is a mark – I put it there myself.'

Thorin glanced over at his nephews, Fíli and Kíli, as Clover swept them up in a hug.

'Have you two been behaving yourself?' she asked quietly.

The hobbit scoffed, 'You should see what they've done to my pantry!'

'Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield. And Clover,' said Gandalf, gesturing towards the female dwarf, 'his, er... companion.'

Clover smiled and looked at the ground.

'So, this is the hobbit,' said Thorin as he began to circle Bilbo, 'Tell me Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?'

Bilbo looked confused, 'Pardon me?'

An uncomfortable feeling swirled in Clover's stomach as she watched the hobbit's reaction – he had no idea what was happening. It was just like Gandalf to bend the truth and keep secrets.

'Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?'

'Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know…' replied Bilbo, with element of pride. Gandalf could not hide his embarrassment. 'But I fail to see why that's relevant.'

'Thought as much,' said Thorin, turning back to the rest of the dwarves, 'he looks more like a grocer than a burglar.'

Everyone chuckled and left the room, leaving Bilbo with a look of confusion on his face. No, Gandalf had definitely not told the hobbit what was going to happen. Clover sent the wizard a knowing look as she walked past him and into the dining room.

Of course, all of the food had been eaten. All that was left was some soup and both Thorin and Clover were too hungry to wait for it to be heated up. So they sat at opposite ends of the dining room table with a bowl of cold soup and a mug of ale each, with the rest of the dwarves and Gandalf sitting around them. Bilbo stood in the doorway.

'What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?' asked Balin, 'Did they all come?'

Thorin nodded, 'Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.'

The dwarves became excited and cheered.

'All of them!' a few dwarves said in amazement.

Dwalin interrupted the cheering, 'And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?'

Thorin sighed and glanced at Clover who looked down at her soup.

'They will not come,' she muttered, knowing that this was the part that Thorin had been dreading.

They all groaned and sighed before Thorin continued.

'They say this quest is ours and ours alone.'

Bilbo leaned forward, suddenly seeming interested, 'You're going on a quest?'

Gandalf replied by asking him for more light in the room. The second that the hobbit left the room, Gandalf started his presentation.

He stood up and placed a map on the table in front of Throrin, 'Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak.'

A candle appeared next to Thorin's face as Bilbo reappeared and leaned towards the map.

'The Lonely Mountain,' he read aloud.

'Aye,' said Gloin, loud enough for his brother to hear him, 'Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time.'

'Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold,' said Oin, confirming what Gloin had said. He quoted what he had found, '_When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end._'

'Uh, what beast?' asked Bilbo.

Gandalf sent him a nervous look as Bofur spoke.

'That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age.'

Bilbo stared blankly at him. He'd definitely recognised the name and he was definitely afraid. However, Bofur continued to explain.

'Airborne fire-breather.'

'Bofur,' called Clover, trying to stop him.

'Teeth like razors.'

'Bofur,'Clover said it a little louder this time.

'Claws like meat hooks.'

'Bofur!'

'Extremely fond of precious metals.'

'Yes, I know what a dragon is!' exclaimed Bilbo, unable to hide the panic is his voice.

Ori stood up suddenly, 'I'm not afraid. I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!'

Everyone cheered. Clover smiled and patted him on the back before his brother pulled him back down.

Balin interrupted, 'The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just fourteen,' Clover glanced over at Thorin at this point, remembering a similar conversation on their way to Hobbiton. 'And not fourteen of the best…nor brightest.'

Everyone started to argue back. Even Clover sent Balin an angry look.

'We're here and ready to fight and that's what counts!' snapped Clover, banging her fist on the table.

Fíli banged the table in agreement, 'We may be few in number, but we're fighters – all of us, to the last dwarf!'

Kíli joined in, 'And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!'

Gandalf shifted uncomfortably in his seat, 'Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say…'

'How many then?' asked Dori, 'How many dragons have you killed?'

Thorin sent Gandalf a knowing smirk.

Gandalf started to cough nervously as Dori got more agitated.

'Go on. Give us a number!'

The table erupted with angry shouts and gestures. Poor Bilbo stared at the dwarves, terrified that they would wake the whole village. He tried to call for quiet but no-one hear him. Clover sat quietly, sipping the rest of her drink, trying but failing to block out the noise. She almost spilt her drink as Thorin stood up and shouted in Dwarvish to get the group to be quiet. Everyone obeyed and sat down quietly, staring up at their leader.

'If we have read these signs,' he said, 'do you not think other will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours?' his voice grew louder, 'Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?'

The dwarves cheered, , throwing there mugs high in the air. Thorin glanced over at Clover who smiled and nodded at him, before raising her mug in his direction. He grinned back, feeling he had the approval of all of the dwarves. His face dropped as Balin began to speak.

'You forget, the Front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.'

'Gandalf,' said Clover, leaning forward, 'you would not have encouraged us unless you had plan. Do you have a plan?'

'That, I do, my dear Clover,' replied Gandalf, smiling. A key suddenly appeared in his hands.

Thorin clearly recognised as tears appeared in his eyes, 'How came you by this?'

'It was given to me your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.'

Thorin took the key from Gandalf and stared at it, a strange look appearing on his face. Clover could not help but remember the look on Thorin's grandfather's face whenever he was surrounded by gold and the Arkenstone. She cleared her throat to draw his gaze away from the key. They stared at each other for a second before he clutched the key in his hand, hiding it from sight.

'If there is a key,' said Fíli, 'there must be a door.'

Gandalf pointed to the map, 'These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls.'

Kíli put his arm around Fíli and Clover with a big grin on his face, 'There's another way in.'

'Well, if we can find it,' sighed Gandalf, 'but dwarf doors are invisible when closed.' He pointed back at the map, 'The answer les hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can.' Everyone started to murmur, all of them having an idea of who they would have to ask – elves. 'The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage.'

'What you are saying sounds overly-complicated,' said Clover, 'would it not be simpler if we just opened this hidden door and ambushed the dragon – kill it?'

'Simpler but more dangerous, my dear Clover,' replied Gandalf, 'If we are careful and clever, and use our heads instead of our weapons, I believe that the task can be completed.'

'That's why we need a burglar!' exclaimed Ori.

'And a good one too,' agreed Bilbo, 'an expert, I'd imagine.'

'And are you?' asked Gloin.

'Am I what?'

Oin, having misheard Bilbo, called out happily, 'He said he's an expert!'

'Me? No! I'm not a burglar!' cried Bilbo, 'I've never stolen a thing in my life!'

'Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr Baggins,' said Balin, sadly, 'he's hardly burglar material.'

Dwalin agreed, 'Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.

'Gandalf, you didn't even tell him what he needs to do. At least if you had he could have prepared himself. He is completely out of his depth,' said Clover.

'Enough!' shouted Gandalf, his voice making the small house shake, 'If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is.' His voice slowly went back to normal, 'Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage.'

Bilbo tried to protest but Gandalf ignored him.

'You asked me to find the fifteenth member of this company,' said the wizard, looking at Thorin, 'and I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself.'

Clover frowned and folded her arms. The poor hobbit was being tricked into joining them on the quest. Gandalf's flattery would definitely start to have an effect on Bilbo soon enough. What was stopping Gandalf from going? If they needed someone who could _pass unseen by most_, why did he not take Bilbo's place, using his magic? She could not stay in the room for a second longer and shuffled by the table and left the room. Thorin stared after her whilst calling for Balin to give Bilbo the contract.


	3. Chapter 1 (Part 2)

**This just carries on from the end of the last chapter.**

**Thanks for the reviews _Lost in Shadows _and _ .7902_**

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Party (Part 2)

Gandalf followed Clover out of the room and into the hallway by the front door. The dwarf began to pace up and down, her arms folded, her eyebrows furrowed. She exhaled angrily as Gandalf stood in front of her.

'Why do you think that you are here, Clover?' he asked.

'Thorin wanted me here,' said Clover with a sigh.

Gandalf shook his head before she even finished her sentence as if he knew what she was going to say, '_Thorin _wanted you to be safe – he did not want you on this quest. _I_ instructed him to bring you.'

Clover looked over at Thorin in the dining room. He was standing up and looking out to the other hallway where Bilbo stood.

'Why would he do that?' she asked in a whisper, not taking her eyes off him. She turned back to Gandalf, 'More importantly, why did _you_ want me here?'

'Before Smaug took Erebor, you and Thorin were close. Thrain told me when he gave me that key. You made Thorin happy. And now, dear Clover, you are his only reminder of a happier time – you give him hope.'

Clover looked down, 'He doesn't need me for that. He's Thorin Oakenshield – King under the mountain.'

'Maybe,' said Gandalf, 'but he is still a dwarf and one of the most stubborn dwarves that I have ever met. He would never admit that he needs help or hope. He needs you, Clover, and the way that you're behaving – the doubt, the irritability – it's not going to help him at all.'

The conversation was interrupted by a thud in the other hallway. Gandalf and Clover peered around the corner to see Bilbo on the floor and the contract lying next to him.

'I bet it was Bofur again,' Clover said with a sigh.

'I heard that!' snapped Bofur from the other room.

Clover hurried into the kitchen to make some tea whilst Gandalf woke the hobbit and sat him down on a comfortable-looking chair. He was breathing raggedly as the dwarves surrounded him. It was clear that they were worried. Without a burglar, the quest was hopeless. Clover came back in and handed Bilbo his tea. Everyone stared at him in silence.

'I'll be alright,' he reassured them, 'Just let me sit quietly for a moment.'

'You've been sitting quietly for far too long!' snapped Gandalf, 'Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods! Who would stay out late, come home after dark trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire.'

Clover sensed the need for privacy between Gandalf and Bilbo – an inspirational talk did not need an audience. She ushered the others out of the room and followed them to the living room. As they settled down, Clover approached Thorin.

'What did Gandalf say to you?' he asked her as she sat next to him.

Clover shrugged, 'He just wanted me to cheer up a bit.'

It wasn't exactly a lie. He _had_ hinted that he wanted her to be a bit more optimistic, especially around Thorin. She used to be very optimistic before the dragon came. But, as expected, Thorin changed once that had happened which had a negative effect on Clover. They were always together so it was hard for her to avoid his misery. Nights had been spent with the two of them silently worrying about the future and not saying a word about it to one another.

Clover decided to take Gandalf's advice.

'He'll change his mind,' she said to him, pointing at Bilbo, 'you can see it in his eyes. He secretly wants to join us.'

'I don't want him to join us,' mumbled Thorin, 'I cannot guarantee his safety. Or anyone else's.'

Clover put a hand on his arm, 'We do not expect you to keep us safe – it is not your responsibility, Thorin. We all know the risks, even the hobbit knows now, but we still want to go on this quest and get our home back. We all want things to go back to the way they were. Do you remember?'

Thorin looked annoyed but continued to listen.

'Sword fights in the halls, feasts that would go on until the early hours of the morning,' Clover was managing to convince herself now. She wanted it all back. Everything. Her mind wandered to the day that Smaug came. 'That kiss,' she whispered absentmindedly.

'What?' Thorin asked, not hearing her clearly.

'Oh, er, nothing,' said Clover, her cheeks going red.

Balin walked over to them and sighed loudly, 'It appears we have lost our burglar.'

Thorin looked through the doorway at the hobbit who was retreating to an empty room.

'Probably for the best,' continued Balin, 'the odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers – hardly the stuff of legend.'

Thorin looked back at Clover with a small smile, 'There are a few warriors amongst us.'

'Old warriors,' said Balin, not realising the two other dwarves staring at each other.

Thorin took a deep breath, still looking at Clover, 'I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honour, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that.' He squeezed Clovers hand and looked over at Balin.

'You don't have to do this. You have a choice!' said Balin, 'You've done honourably by our people – both of you. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor.'

'We are the dwarves of Erebor,' said Clover, 'we do not belong in the Blue Mountains. We need our old life back.'

'From my grandfather to my father, this,' Thorin held up the key, 'has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me.'

Clover stood next to him and held his arm supportively. Balin nodded though he looked disappointed.

'Then we are with you, laddie,' he said, 'we will see it done.'

Their attention was drawn to the dining room where the rest of the dwarves sat. They were humming a sad tune – the song of the dwarves of Erebor. The three of them joined the dwarves and huddled around the fireplace. Clover and Balin began to hum too, looking expectantly at Thorin. He began to sing in his deep, melodic voice.

'_Far over the misty mountains cold,  
>To dungeons deep and caverns old,<br>We must away 'ere break of day,  
>To find our long-forgotten gold.'<em>

Clover held Thorin's hand, drawing his attention as she and the other dwarves began to sing with him.

'_The pines were roaring on the height,  
>The winds were moaning in the night,<br>The fire was red, it flaming spread,  
>The trees like torches, blazed with light.'<em>

Clover could not stop a few tears from rolling over her cheeks. Thorin leaned forward and brushed them away as the song ended. He then pulled her into a warm hug and whispered to her.

'Thank you.'


End file.
